


Together Forever

by CosmicMind



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Blood, Cannibalism, Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7709755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicMind/pseuds/CosmicMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrushev Georgiy (known only as "Purple" to many) was a sinful man. He murdered many, including children and his old boss and coworker, and never stopped. Though his sins had to catch up with him someday...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together Forever

**Author's Note:**

> This ties in to Chapter 18 of The Tale of Jeremy Fitzgerald, which you should totally read right now.

Patrushev Georgiy had been known by everyone as “Purple” for his name sounded too foreign and his famous purple, collared shirts, except for three exceptions. One was his cousin Maggie, who saw him as her whole world. Another one was Fransisco, who considered Patrushev to be his best friend in a world of mobs and gangsters . Then there was the one who Patrushev saw as his closest ally in his life ever since that infamous day in 1987, the Marionette- who now stood before Patrushev in a locked room within the classy nightclub- _Freddy’s_.  
  
  
“So what you are saying is that you failed on your promise?” the Marionette hissed in a chilling tone as they towered over Patrushev. The black gunk that constantly dripped from the being's eye holes made a drop plop onto Patrushev’s cheek, which he wiped off. He knew he had to stand his ground, even when facing such a powerful entity.  
  
  
“I know what I said, but I can’ just go out n’ do your bidding when you please,” Patrushev argued, taking a few steps back, “Fransisco’s watchin’ ever’one like a hawk, and I still need t’ find new victims.”  
  
  
“You seem to have forgotten promises one too many times, Patrushev. I’m starving, and because of you I couldn’t contract the child due to you arrogantly killing him out of my range.”  
  
  
“But ya said you have th’ soul, so why not devour it like you do with th’ other guys I get killed for you?”  
  
  
“I’m saving it for now,” the Marionette replied, “Besides, I still need more, especially after the promises you made for it.” They floated even closer to Patrushev to where only a few inches of space were between them. The demon put a black wooden hand to Patrushev’s chest, tracing it up to under his chin, making him shudder at the cold touch. He noticed the twins now poking out from behind their master, grinning eerily . “Or shall I devour your soul instead? The more sinful, the better.”  
  
  
“I never broke any rules!” Patrushev snapped, “If I helped supply you with souls, you’d help me escape from a lifetime in prison, n’ that’s that. Y’ never said I HAD to do it when I said I would. And I've been gettin' you souls for the pas’ few years; why else would I risk goin’ into th’ mob?”  
  
  
“You’re missing the point, Patrushev. You constantly claim that you’re going to have a new body count by a certain time, yet fall flat with petty excuses when you don't.”  
  
  
“‘S not that easy, y’know. Unlike you, I’m limited to bein’ a human.”  
  
  
“You really are a fool. You think you’re lies have gone unnoticed?” the Marionette growled, “Perhaps I shouldn’t have made a deal with you when you murdered the first child. Remember that I’m the eternal reminder of your past crimes.” Patrushev got a glimpse of their pitch black teeth part and shine in the dim light. He knew he ought not making the boss upset, but he had to defend himself somehow.  
  
  
“Well consider the deal off! ‘M done being your bitch!”  
  
  
The Marionette slowly straightened their posture and tilted their head down at Patrushev in response. JJ and BB both lost their smiles, taken aback by Patrushev’s open defiance against the master. Patrushev instantly regretted what he just uttered. There was no taking that back now.  
  
  
“Why must you be so disrespectful, Patrushev?” the Marionette asked, their usual deep and hissing tone now playing background to a more childlike voice- a voice Patrushev knew all too well, “After you killed innocent children, I still forgave you and allowed you to be my partner.   
D o  y o u  w i s h  y o u  h a d n ’ t  k i l l e d  m e ,   M r . J a n i t o r ?”  
  
  
Patrushev quickly covered his ears, memories from ‘87 rushing back into his mind like raw sewage bubbling up into a sink. “Stop it!” he groaned. The Marionette’s expression was a permanent smile, but it was clear that if they could show emotion they would be smiling victoriously.  
  
  
In the heat of the moment of bad memories, Patrushev could have fought or flew. Knowing this is an enemy he can’t fight, he knew he had to fly, and flew out the door of the storage room he did. He knew the Marionette was a playful being- they would give him a few seconds head start, despite knowing he can’t hide anywhere, just for amusement. And indeed within ten seconds he heard the twins chasing after him. Thankfully the Marionette knocked the night guard out so he wouldn’t see any of the paranormal activity occurring (though they could probably possess the guard if they wanted to).  
  
  
Patrushev skittered around a corner, nearly tripping in the process due to his non-stick shoes on the slick floor. From the corner of his eye he could see JJ gaining on him at a fast pace, and they would most likely be able to catch him when he got to a dead end. He had to get out of the building and out of the Marionette’s range. He could actually leave town like he wrote in his letter to Fransisco, maybe start a new life with a new name. Or maybe jump off a building like he should’ve done long ago.  
  
  
As he sprinted down the hallway, he noticed a door at the end of the hallway that he could’ve sworn was a dead end. However, there was no time to think logically, so he chose to assume it was the exit door of the building and practically threw himself in there, slamming the door behind him. JJ didn’t follow him inside, in fact the familiar’s footsteps couldn’t even be heard anymore. Why didn’t they follow him in here if they could easily phase through walls?  
  
  
Patrushev used the moment of solitude to catch his breath and observe the room he put himself into. It was a dark room about the size of the security office with no windows and a single dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were a muddy black and brown with a concrete floor. Both the walls and floor had smears of browns and reds, some obviously newer than others. Despite the presence of the lightbulb, Patrushev couldn’t see the corners of the room, nor any other possible doors.  
  
  
“Damn, guess ‘m gonna have to feel my way around for an exit,” Patrushev muttered, “What ‘s this place, anyways?”  
  
  
As he took a few steps into the darkness, he heard something crunch under his foot. Looking down he noticed it was a broken piece of steel chain- a heavy one at that. He knelt down to examine it, cocking his head. He wondered- was this Maggie’s torture room?  
  
  
Patrushev’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of something stirring nearby in the dark. He took out the butterfly knife from his pocket and held it up in defense. “W-Who’s there?” he whimpered, looking around, “If it’s one of the Marionette’s slaves, I’m not afraid.”  
  
  
The thing in the dark sounded like it stood up and it took several steps into the light, the rattle of chains echoed off the stone walls as heavy, thumping footsteps that sounded like a large animal's came up. What stepped into the light nearly scared Patrushev more than seeing one of the twins.  
  
  
It was a man (or at least, resembled a man) who was at least seven feet tall, about as tall as the Marionette except much broader and carried massive muscles. He had greasy dirty blond hair that had bangs that drooped over his eyes and went down his neck. His skin was dirty and had several scars, including a large one down his arm. He was wearing a decayed formal attire, with a vest with tails and and fancy shoes, which had the sleeves of the faded mustard brown shirt ripped off. Shackles and handcuffs were around their feet and ankles, with the hands being bound together and the ankles attached to a wall nearby with heavy chains- the same kind Patrushev found on the floor.  
  
  
Yet what was most shocking about this zombie-like man was his mouth. The lips had rotted away, revealing a jaw that had sharp teeth that were an yellow tint and murky gums. He looked down at Patrushev with his dark eyes, a low growl emerging from his throat.  
  
  
Patrushev raised an eyebrow. He felt like he knew this man from somewhere. The way he towered over him and his muscles looked like he could snap his neck with one grip. The formal attire, despite being horribly tattered, looked familiar. Could it possibly be…  
  
  
“Steven?” Patrushev muttered in disbelief. He hadn’t seen Steven Springs since 1987 when he killed him and George on that fateful night. There was no way Steven had rose from the dead after seventeen stabbings to the back. “Y-You’re… supposed t’ be dead.”  
  
  
Apparently Steven recognized him too. He let out a snarl and moved his arms apart so he could break his handcuff chains, then proceeded to do something similar with his ankle shackles.  
  
  
“Y O U” Steven roared before lunging at Patrushev, knocking him to the ground. Patrushev attempted to stab him with his knife, but his arm was twisted and broken before he could, along with several of his ribs from the impact, making him cry out in pain. He assumed Steven would just beat him to a bloody pulp, or stab him as revenge. He assumed Steven beat him until the Marionette intervened and prevented the creature from hurting their most loyal servant. He hope Steven might let him be able to run away.  
  
  
Instead, Steven sunk his sharp teeth into Patrushev’s shoulder skin, most likely cracking the collarbone, and ripping a chunk of his pale flesh away. Patrushev screamed bloody murder as loud as he could, with the fading hope that someone might hear him. Until he felt himself start to cry. Steven repeated the action again to his chest and arm, swallowing each chunk he tore off.  
  
  
As Patrushev felt his life slipping away and his vision blur, he saw five small figures appear around him. They were all children who were white in color and had pitch black eyes that dripped black tears. They didn’t have visible mouths, but Patrushev knew they were- all five laughing and grinning down at him with the pure enjoyment of watching him suffer.  
  
  
Another figure appeared in the middle of the ghost children. This one he knew- the Marionette. The being was simply watching Patrushev get ripped to shreds with glee.  
  
  
“Marionette!” Patrushev cried out, reaching out to his old friend, he begged “H-Help me! Please! I-I-I’ll do anythin’, really! Stop this monster! I-It... hurts”  
  
  
The last thing Patrushev heard was the six inhumane figures laugh at him as the world went black.  
  
  
\----  
  
  
 _Patrushev lowered his axe onto one of George’s arms, slicing through bone with a bit of elbow grease. Wrath fueled him and he enjoyed every moment of chopping this man into bits. He bet if George was still alive he’d regret firing a long time employee over some pretty boy who’s only in the business for eye candy. Maybe George would tell him Patrushev was his best worker. Maybe George would kill Steven if Patrushev threatened him to do so. Patrushev laughed at that very thought.  
  
  
The janitor stood up and wiped his bloody hands on a rag he brought and set the axe down. He chuckled at the mangled corpse of a once prosperous restaurant owner.  
  
  
“Go ahead,” he taunted at the corpse, “Call for your boyfriend to save you. Just like you wanted to save those gullible brats after seeing they fell into a too easy of a trap.”  
  
  
He was interrupted as the door to the office opened slowly with a long creak. When Patrushev turned his head, he saw Steven standing in the doorway in utter shock and fear.  
  
  
“P...Patrushev?” Steven mutteredm, staring over the scene in horror, “Wh-what did yOU DO??!!”_  
  
  
\----  
  
  
Patrushev awoke on the cold stone floor right in a small, partially dried pool of blood. It was the same room he died in, with the dim light bulb still shining from the middle of the ceiling. Looking around alone, he noticed splatters of blood and scraps of fabric around the room, especially on the walls. The smell of flesh and bones that crawled up his nostrils was sickening, but not something he was unfamiliar with. He felt something around his mouth area, which was easy to figure out it was cloth, like a bandana.  
  
  
The next thing he noticed was a twisted corpse lying beside him. The shoulder and part of the arm was chewed down to the bone with various chunks of meat missing. The stomach had also been ripped open with a few unrecognizable organs spilling out, one with a bite mark in it. The face was so mutilated to the point it was barely a face anymore.  
  
  
He sat up from his place on the floor. For some reason his body felt much heavier than usual, and there were cuffs around his wrists and ankles. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t feel sleeves being there, nor did he remember wearing a vest that night. He didn’t feel like himself at all. That’s right! Patrushev last remembered being eaten alive by a monster, whilst Marionette and the ghost children stood by and watched him die a horrifyingly brutal death.  
  
  
However, the corpse still caught his attention more than what he last remembered. Looking closer at it, he noticed that the corpse had light blonde hair, almost white. The skin was also extremely pale and what was left of its limbs was lanky and bone-like.  
  
  
 _‘Just like me…,’_ Patrushev thought. It was eerily too similar to his own body to be a coincidence. Was this another one of the Marionette’s tricks?  
  
 _  
‘Who are you?’_  
  
  
Patrushev nearly died again after hearing another voice in his head speak. He looked around frantically in case he was not alone in the room, but to his dismay he was completely alone.  
  
  
“Hell...o?” Patrushev grunted, not understanding why it was so much harder to talk now than before. Upon looking down at his lap he noticed that he was definitely not in his own body. In fact, he looked a lot like... Steven.  
  
  
“Get. Out!” he felt himself say against his will. At this point he was beginning to hyperventilate, trying to convince himself this was a bad dream and he would wake up soon. He looked over at the corpse again and noticed it was wearing a gold name tag with an engraved name on it.  
  
 __  
“Patrushev Georgiy  
  
Head Security Guard”  
  
  
“No…” Patrushev cried, both on his own and the voice in his head, “No, no, no!” He then let out a mighty scream, feeling his face and clothes to realize he was in the body of the undead previously known as Steven Springs. This had to be a nightmare. This couldn’t be real.  
  
  
“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice purred from the shadows. It was unmistakably the voice of the Marionette. The two whipped their head around to look for the foul creature, but saw nothing. It was already hard enough to maneuver with two souls controlling one body, not to mention both were equally freaking out over their current predicament. “I must say, I’m surprised you two had such compatible souls to share a body. Then again, forcing souls together isn’t too hard for a being of my stature.”  
  
  
The Marionette chuckled softly as the monster struggled to stand up, not used to sharing a body with another.  
  
  
“Perhaps I was a bit harsh on you, Patrushev. I do regret not killing you myself, but I managed to find an even better solution thanks to your folly. I figured you two needed some time together to learn how to get along. I’m sure you’ll find that you’ll act as one and learn to love the taste of flesh in no time. I’ve decided to call you… ‘Springtrap’ as of now; you’ll both forget your own names in no time anyways…”  
  
  
Springtrap stood in shock, then fell to his knees, his mind racing but his heart no longer beating. He felt something wet mix in with the dried blood on his face.  
  
  
Both trapped souls were crying.


End file.
